Sexual Persuasion (9 page)

Davidson tried to walk and winced. “Jesus. That guy might put me in a chair yet.”

“I don’t know anything about this, but maybe you should take his advice. This isn’t Kansas anymore, Dorothy. This is the big game, and you’re not on a dirt lot. You’re playing in Fenway Park.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means whoever sent him is trying to tell you something. Knowing you, you won’t listen.” Alex started to walk away, then turned. “I’d take a taxi from now on, Jack. Walking can be dangerous.”

“There’s something else, Andros.”

“What?”

Davidson looked truly conflicted. He waved Alex off.
“Nothing. Forget it. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Alex wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Rather than press, he’d enjoy whatever time he had before finding out. If it had to do with Max, his boss wouldn’t hesitate to let him know.

But first, he needed to take care of business. He got back to his car and dialed Tom Scruggs. Alex had used Scruggs before. An ex-spook, he knew everything about electronic surveillance. He also knew every pro working in the Boston area and beyond. Alex figured Scruggs would have to call in someone else to complete the job, but he felt confident he’d choose wisely. He always did.

“Got a job for you, Tom.
It’s a big one. Might even be dangerous, but I’m paying top dollar. Are you free?”

“As a bird,” Scruggs answered.

“Good. I’ll get back to you.” Alex checked his watch: 12:45. Where had the time gone? He told Charlotte he’d call in the morning. He should have called as soon as he had the photos, but he didn’t realize the late time. He was always punctual, except this morning. He tapped in her number, and after it rang five or six times, it switched to voice mail. If he hadn’t seen Davidson minutes before, he’d be worried. He waited for the beep.

“Charlotte, I have the photos. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.” Was that all he wanted to say? No. But that was all he would say. That was all he promised. He hung up and drove toward the harbor.

He turned on the radio loud, hoping it would capture his attention.
Stop thinking about her. Concentrate on something else. Anything other than Charlotte.
But it was a lost cause. He pictured her last night, blonde hair cascading onto her shoulders, tears filling her innocent blue eyes and tumbling onto her cheeks. And the red dress that would stop an army in their tracks. He got halfway home, made a U-turn, and headed to Newbury Street.

Lust to Lust

Charlotte saw Alex’s car at a meter adjacent to her doorway. Sweat poured off her, and she felt like she just came out of a steam room. He got out and waited until she approached. He wore sunglasses and looked almost edible in washed-out jeans and a dark gold open-neck polo shirt.
Get a grip.

“I called, but you didn’t answer. I left a message on your machine.”

“You said you’d call in the morning. I figured Jack wouldn’t give you the photos, so around eleven I went for my walk.”

“Sorry. The morning got away from me. Jack gave me the photos. That’s the message on the machine.”

“Are you going to show them to me?”

He met her gaze straight-on. “No.”

Charlotte’s stomach sank. “That bad, huh?”

“Do you really want to talk on the street?”

“I appreciate what you did, but―”

“Open the door, Charlotte.”

“I―”

“Open it.”

Her chest felt like it would explode, because she knew what was going to happen. And she wanted it to happen. She found the key in her fanny pack and pointed to the new lock. “Your locksmith came over and changed the locks and installed an alarm system. Thanks. I appreciate your taking care of that, but you didn’t have to pay.”

“You’re welcome, and my pleasure. Can we go inside?”

She unlocked the door, and he followed her into the small entry, wedging his body against hers. She took a tiny step back. Not from fear, but because if he got any closer, he might kiss her. More importantly, she’d be tempted to kiss him back. Not tempted, anxious. She saw the danger in his eyes, heard his raspy whisper. His gaze settled on the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She wanted him. No. She didn’t. But yes, she did. So much it hurt.

“You’re aroused, Charlotte.”

“I…I am not.” More lies. Could he smell her arousal? Sense her clit pulsing with the desire to be satisfied? Could he feel the throbbing against his thigh? He moved in closer. Now she was sure he could. She wanted to die, but she’d never felt so alive.

“Yes, you are. You can’t control your breathing, and your heart is beating so fast you think it’s going to pop through your skin.”

His hand inched from her neck to her ear, swirling his finger around and in and over. She purred like a contented kitten. His other hand moved down her back to cover her buttocks. He pulled her to him so she pressed against his chest.

She wanted to move, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t let him get to her. Not the new Charlotte Stone. “You’re wrong. It’s because I’ve been on a long walk.
Miles, maybe. I’m sweaty. I probably stink.”

He smiled again. “You’re not sweaty; you’re hot. You’re trying not to want me, but you do.” He got close to her ear. “You’re wet, aren’t you?”

“No,” she blurted out. She felt weak. She also felt his hard-on, which only made her want him more. What in hell was wrong with her? He’d joked about being gay, but he never denied it.

“I thought about you all night long. You’re why I couldn’t sleep. I would have taken you last night, but after what Jack did, I couldn’t force myself on you, no matter how much I wanted you. Now I’ve figured you out, Charlotte Stone. You’re trying hard to convince yourself you don’t want to give in, but you do. And you will.”

God, she felt like giving in now. Steam rose off him like a simmering teakettle, and his arrogance made him hotter. She cleared her throat.
Stand up to him, Charlotte. Or at least try.
She threw out her jaw and tried to look down on him, but he was too damn tall. She couldn’t look down on someone who towered over her. “If you think you’ve figured me out, you’re in for a surprise.”
The bastard’s still smiling.

“I’ll chance the learning experience. Gentleman time is over. Now let’s go upstairs.”

“I can’t. You don’t understand.”

“You can, and I understand perfectly. You have no idea how much I understand. Let’s forget the promises we’ve made to our inner selves.
It’s one afternoon. One day. You and me.”

Could she deal with one afternoon or even one day if she knew that was all there’d be? It was sex.
Lust. Then it would be over, and they could go on without any entanglements. She started up the stairs and slipped the key into the lock, opened the door, and shut off the alarm.

She turned. They were face-to-face. She started to say something, but he said, “Shut up,” and pulled her to him. “Just shut up. I’ve been waiting for this from the first moment I saw you.”

“That was last night,” she said.

“A lifetime when you want something this much.”

Now, body to body, she heard the rapid pace of their breathing. Their gazes locked, and everything else disappeared. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted him. To feel his mouth on her lips, on her breasts. She wanted his tongue inside her. On every inch of her skin.
So much for celibacy, Charlotte, you wimp. And you don’t have to worry about trust. This is one afternoon. One day’s surrender to lust.

He scanned her face. The scents of woodsy spices, lime, and sex filled her nostrils, filled her senses. Their lips touched, gently at first, then hard, until they were crushed against each other. He seized a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, and the kisses to her neck turned into gentle sucking.

Oh damn, I’m going to have marks, and I don’t care.

She didn’t care about anything when he forced his tongue into her mouth. They teased each other, nipping and stroking, exploring the oral territory.

She opened her legs enough to accept his erection. His mouth covered her, kissing, biting, licking. One hand caressed her breasts; the other slid down her back to her ass, pulling her so close she felt his heartbeat. He tugged his shirt over his head, revealing a spattering of dark chest hair. She wanted to bury her face in it. Then he did the same with her sports bra.

“I want to look at you.” He stared at her exposed flesh. “You’re beautiful,” he said, stroking the sides of her breasts with the tips of his fingers, moving up to circle her pink areolae.

“Oooh,” she sighed. The heat between her thighs burned with anticipation. “You were the one man who didn’t focus on my chest when we met. I can’t tell you how that set you apart.” She refrained from saying that at the time it made sense because she believed he was gay. Now, as long as he kept doing what he was doing to her nipples, she didn’t care if he levitated in his loafers.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice.” He sucked some more. “I could hardly miss these in that red dress. But they’re not who you are.”

“That’s all every man saw since I was thirteen.”

He lifted his gaze. “I’m not every man.”

Charlotte wouldn’t argue that. Even if Alex Andros was bisexual, he was like no man she’d ever known. Confident, arrogant, gentle, caring, and definitely complex. She could go on, but she didn’t want to
think
. She wanted to
feel
.

“No more talking. I want to make love.” Lifting one breast to his mouth, he flicked his tongue over her nipple, then around, sucking in until it hardened and grew like it always did when she was excited. He rolled the other nipple between his fingers, pulling on it, synchronizing his hand work on one breast with his mouth action on the other. He tightened slowly, nipping one, pinching the other, causing her to wince from sheer, blissful pleasure.

The real Alex Andros pleasuring her far surpassed the imaginary one in her bed that morning. His touch, the curl of his smile, the sunlight dancing off his extraordinary eyes―all that and more ignited her desire.

She ran her hands over his chest and back and arms, bit his shoulder and earlobe, sucked his neck. His man scent enthralled and excited her, like some seductive love drug, luring her in.

Alex groped for his belt, and they both fumbled as they tried to unbuckle it, both giggling at their eagerness. She moved her hands away to let him do it alone so he could unzip his fly while she slipped off her walking shoes. Before his pants dropped, he pulled a shiny package from his pocket.

“Cock sure of yourself, weren’t you?” she said, “Excuse the pun.”

“Nothing like that, but if anything happened between us, I wanted to be prepared. Besides, with all the gossip, I figured you’d be worried. Just know that I’ve been tested because of one indiscriminate sexual liaison over a year ago.” He met her gaze. “With a woman. I haven’t had sex since.”

“I don’t lie,”
he’d said. She hoped not, because she couldn’t stop now if she wanted to, and she didn’t want to.

H
e kicked out of his pants, then got down on his knees, easing down her shorts and panties. She stepped out of them, and he gently pushed apart her legs.

He thrust his tongue into
her wetness. One finger massaged above her opening as he sucked and nibbled around her clit. She sighed a long breath, weak from the thrill. He brought her almost to climax, then stopped.

“Why did you stop? I was about to come.”

“That’s why I stopped. I don’t want you to reach orgasm now. Not yet.”

“Do you know what’s going on down there?
A thunderstorm.”

“Hold on.” He kissed and lapped his way up her torso, curling his oral weapon into her belly button, then north in a liquid path that ended at her breasts. “I’m aiming for a tornado.” His delicate touch sent shivers through her, sparking volts of electricity that turned every sense radioactive.

He was beautiful. Sweat glistened on his dark skin, and when he pulled down his black briefs, Charlotte stared at his erection, big and thick and definitely ready. He tore open the package and rolled the condom over his cock.

Then he had her up against the wall, his hands on her ass, lifting her. She wound her arms around his neck and her legs over his hips.
She fit into him like a piece of a puzzle, molding into his curves. He stopped, lightly blew a wayward strand of hair from her eye.

He
fingered her juices over the condom and guided his cock into her, taking it slow, easing in.

“You’re very creamy,” he said. “I take that as a sign you’re excited.”

She nodded and released a small grunt. “You already knew that.”

“
Tell me if I’m hurting you, and I’ll take it slower.”

S
he shook her head, amazed that any man with a hard-on that size could think of anything other than his own physical needs. He entered her, penetrating deep inside. So deep he triggered a spot no one else had ever reached. The sensation rocketed through her. He eased out, then in again, slowly, carefully.